


A Battle of Wills

by cosmogyrals



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyrals/pseuds/cosmogyrals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Master tries to have sex in the shower, he receives some rather unexpected results...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Battle of Wills

He pinned the Doctor up against the tiled wall of the shower, ignoring the ice-cold needles of water prickling the skin of his back. The Doctor’s heartbeats fluttered frantically under his palms. The Master ducked his head and delivered a sharp bite to the left side of his collarbone.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor gasped. He seemed too transfixed by the Master’s ministrations to move, pinned to the spot like a dead butterfly to its cardboard backing.

He slid his hands down to the Doctor’s hipbones, marveling at the way they jutted out sharply from his body. “Well,” he murmured against the Doctor’s skin, “either I’ve become a cannibal, the kind who prefers to devour his victims raw in the shower – “ he slid his right hand over to his cock, skittering his nails over the tender skin – “or my motives are, in fact, decidedly sexual in nature.” He ground his own erection against the Doctor’s thigh to punctuate his point.

The Doctor’s voice skipped up half an octave, a trait that anyone else probably would have found rather endearing. “Oh,” he squeaked. “Well, then. You know, I have a quite nice set of filleting knives that you could be using instead.”

Visions of the Doctor with said knives firmly planted in his chest flitted through his mind before he banished them to concentrate on the equally delicious morsel before him. The drums, oh, they liked that thought – but they weren’t in charge right now, he was. “Don’t distract me,” he growled as he insinuated a knee between the Doctor’s legs. He quashed the bloodlust, concentrating instead on stroking the cock in his hand, memorizing the texture of the skin and veins.

“That doesn’t feel very much like cannibalism,” the Doctor protested breathily, squirming beneath him.

The Master let out a low, throaty laugh, enjoying the way it echoed off the walls of the shower. “How long has it been since you’ve gotten laid, Doctor?”

“Oh, I dunno…seventeenth-century France or thereabouts?” He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in damp spikes. “ ‘s been awhile, at any rate. I think Shakespeare wanted to, but sixteenth-century hygiene’s a bit of a turnoff.”

He pushed the Doctor’s legs apart with his knee. A quick glance around the shower revealed that it was, in fact, annoyingly devoid of anything that might be used as lubricant. He stroked the Doctor slowly, contemplating his options. Going without lube would make him squirm and squeal deliciously, he knew, but it would also decrease his chances of sex anytime in the near future, and that just wouldn’t do. The Master sighed. “Stay just like that,” he instructed the Doctor, who was staring at him with those wide brown eyes of his, looking for all the world like a deer caught in headlights.

He stalked over to the Doctor’s medicine cabinet and pulled the door open. _Why in the world would anybody need a Slinky in their bathroom?_ he wondered briefly as he pushed objects aside. Suddenly, he froze, feeling a pair of hands on his hips.

“You’ve become too trusting in your old age,” the Doctor murmured, his breath hot against the Master’s ear. “I remember when you would have never turned your back on me.” He felt the Doctor’s cock pressed firmly against his ass and he knew he was well and truly trapped.

And God, that aroused him more than he would ever be willing to admit.

He tilted his head back to look up at the Doctor. The wide-eyed, innocent look he’d been wearing earlier was gone, replaced by what he could only describe as predatory, something he was far from used to seeing on the Doctor’s face. The Doctor met his eyes with a lustful gaze as he reached up and plucked the lube from the medicine cabinet. As he pushed him up against the sink, his long fingers found the Master’s cock, wrapping around it in a way that elicited a low moan from his throat.

The Doctor ran his tongue along the shell of his ear as he stroked him slowly. “Shall I make you beg for it?” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. “I know that’s what you were going to do to me.” He nipped his earlobe sharply. “You’ve always been so predictable, Master.”

The Master shuddered at the surge of arousal coursing through his body. The drums crescendoed as he met the Doctor’s eyes, darker and more animalistic than he’d ever seen them before. It was almost enough to break down his inner resistance. Almost.

He hissed through tightly-clenched teeth as he felt the tip of a finger invade him. “Doesn’t that feel good?” The Doctor’s voice was low, his tone hypnotic. “God, it’s been so long since I topped you.”

“Not long enough,” he growled, his stubbornness returning in spades.

The Doctor tsked, shaking his head in mock sorrow. “Oh, Master.” He ground his erection against the Master’s ass. “One of the most important lessons in life is knowing when to surrender control.” He added a second finger, ignoring the Master’s cries of protest. “But you’ve never been able to do that, have you?” he whispered again. “Does exerting your dominion over lesser creatures make you feel better about yourself? Does it fill that empty hole that I _know_ you have inside?”

The Master sagged forward, nearly whimpering in disappointment as the Doctor suddenly removed his fingers. He winced at the sensation of cold porcelain against the bare skin of his stomach, though it failed to sufficiently dampen his ardor. “Doctor,” he whispered.

Glancing up, he saw the Doctor’s mad grin reflected in the mirror. “You see, Master, I’m the only living creature in the entire universe able to control you. And doesn’t that _scare_ you?” He bit his lower lip as he felt something blunt press insistently at his opening. “Go on, then, beg.”

The Master dropped his eyes again, unable to look at the Doctor’s face any longer. “Please,” he mumbled half-heartedly.

A bit more pressure, and the Master’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he sucked in a gulp of air. He tried to thrust forward into the Doctor’s hand, but the tight grip the Doctor had on his cock prevented him from moving.

“Give _up_ , Master.” The Doctor’s voice was hoarse, almost a growl, completely unlike his normal tone. “Give up, give in, surrender, let me fuck you, let yourself enjoy it.” The words fell from his lips in a rhythmic cadence, blending with their combined heartbeats and the thundering of drums in the Master’s head.

“Worship me, Master.” The Doctor continued his litany. “Worship me like you used to, like you know you’re meant to. It’s just you and me now, you and me and eternity.” His voice grew quiet and more strained as he slowly pushed his way into the Master’s body. “An entire universe out there just for the two of us, and all you have to do is ask. Say the word, and everything can be yours.” He was almost whispering, his voice nearly drowned out by the Master’s low guttural moans.

The Doctor stopped once his entire length was buried in the Master’s body, his chest heaving as he panted heavily. “Just tell me you want me.” Though his arousal was evident on his face, his eyes glittered with tears; the Master could see the desperation lurking just below the surface.

He met the Doctor’s gaze in the mirror as he rolled his hips forward, then backward, ignoring the twinge of pain as his cock was tugged. The friction, he hoped, would stimulate _some_ primal instinct buried deep inside the Doctor, saving him from the indignity of begging to be fucked. Squeezing his eyes shut, he continued the self-stimulation, increasing his movements until he was rocking fast and hard.

The Master let out a few small cries as the Doctor’s erection hit his prostate over and over, until the sensation was too much for him to bear. He rocked back hard one last time, gasping sharply as he orgasmed, spurts of hot semen landing on the porcelain-chilled skin of his stomach.

He bent nearly double over the sink, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He was keenly aware of the Doctor’s still-hard cock buried deep inside of him, stimulating his hyper-sensitive nerve endings. The Doctor, however, had remained perfectly motionless throughout, staring straight forward into the mirror. He offered no resistance as the Master pulled free, relaxing his once-tight grip on the other man.

He stepped to the side, then moved behind the Doctor, watching his reflection in the mirror. There was still no sign of movement; he wasn’t even following him with his eyes. It was more than a little disturbing. He tore his gaze away from the Doctor and went back to the shower, wincing as he stepped under the freezing cold spray. He half-expected the Doctor to start wanking once he was back in the shower, but, from what he could tell through the water-streaked glass door, he still hadn’t moved.

The Master finished washing quickly, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his waist, then stepped out of the bathroom, not bothering to look back at the Doctor one last time.


End file.
